


Elizabeth

by Poemwolf



Category: Ghost (Swedish Band)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 13:16:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8981257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poemwolf/pseuds/Poemwolf
Summary: So this story will be about a girl who looses her family and becomes king, and her run in with an order of mysterious order of strange popes. This of course is just the beginning.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is mainly set up so sorry if it's boring but it had to be done.

Prologue: Elizabeth sat curled in a big chair in the pitch-black library a candle in her hand illuminating the book held in the other. There was the soft sound of footsteps as a guard approached her. “Princess Redthorn,” said the guard in a sad hushed voice, “there is some news I must deliver and I’d suggest that your brother be present.” “Ok,” she replied, confused. Elizabeth placed her book on the table beside her, got up, and smoothed the wrinkles out of her dress. She headed to her twin brother’s room knowing she'd have hell to pay for waking him up when the sun was down. Once she arrived at her brother’s chamber Elizabeth went inside to wake him, the guard stopping at the threshold. After many protests and grunts she finally got her brother to sit up in his bed, his hair a messy golden halo around his head. “So what is this news my sister speaks of,” asked her brother groggily. The guard drew in a shaky breath and said in a hoarse voice, “The ship carrying your paren-the king and queen, and princess Ann has sunk. The only survivor was one lucky crew member who told us the news.” The twins starred at the guard in shock. “But how,” Elizabeth mumbled under her breath, it can't be, it just can't be.” “ But who will take care of Lilith,” she asked, concerned her six year old sister. “I will of course,” croaked her brother. “But you can't, you have to rule Eli.” “No, you will.” “But I can't. They won't except me. Hell, they already act as if I don't exist.” “But you must sister, you were always best at lessons. You are clearly better suited for the task of ruling.” “Well you know they don't see it that way. They think I'm just a stupid 14 year old girl, and that's if they have an opinion other than I'm creepy. Just…ugh.” She just couldn't take it anymore. Elizabeth jumped on to her brother's bed, wrapped him in a tight embrace, and proceeded to sob into his chest. Eli buried his face in her shoulder, his tears soaking into her long white-blond hair. The guard left, leaving the twins to grieve on their own. They cried into each other and screamed their throats raw, the sorrow consuming them.  
Chapter 1:  
~one week later~  
It was officially decided that Elizabeth would rule even though she was only 14. She would rule under the title of king, by her brother's choosing. The crowning ceremony for the public’s viewing had yet to be scheduled because Elizabeth wanted to make sure she could act strong and menacing enough to show she had just as much of a right to rule as her brother. Eli did focus all his efforts on taking care of Lilith. Elizabeth on the other hand did nothing but wander the castle and was sometimes found curled up asleep in some random room, hall, or secret passage. Today was like all the other days that had been. Elizabeth wandered, tears and snot caked on her face, hands, and the midnight blue mass that was her dress. Unlike other days a guard came up to her in the early evening and said, “your majesty, there is a visitor frantically asking to see the king, but they haven't heard, and you said not to tell anyone. He is, was, a friend of your father’s. I believe he is called Papa Emeritus III, because he is the third of the century or something.” “Why the hell does an ex-pope want to see the king.” “Because they were friends, and besides he is only an ex-pope of sorts.” “What is that even supposed to mean?” The guard did not get a chance to answer before the sound of stomping men filled the hall along with the sound of irritated yelling. “Where the shit is he!” said the yelling man in a commanding tone. “Well here he comes,” sighed the guard. “But no one can see me like this,” whispered Elizabeth frantically. As the yelling and heavy footfalls came closer she ran to make it behind the bend in the hall. She had made it just before the loud group of men stopped to yell at the guard. But the blood red ribbon that held her hair back had trailed out behind her, and thankfully had only been seen by one in the party, a boy, who thought nothing of it. The guard told the yelling man, “the king will not see you tonight, but will speak with you tomorrow before breakfast. So follow me to your rooms.” “But why won't he,” Papa shouted, pissed off. The guard was about to reply when Eli rushed into the hallway. Papa spotted him and the recognition hit and he said, “oh dear boy, it's been such a long while since I've seen you! How is your father?” “Occupied,” Eli answered curtly, “so if you would please follow the guard.” “Fine,” Papa huffed knowing that no amount of arguing would get him any closer to seeing the king. Papa and his people followed the guard while Eli headed towards his chambers. Elizabeth leaned against the gray stone wall, breathing out a tension filled sigh of relief, and then she to headed to her room.


	2. Chapter 2

When Elizabeth got to her room she flung herself onto her bed, stared at the ceiling, and began to cry and scream late into the night. But still she couldn't fall asleep. So like every night since she heard the news she took to wandering her castle to try to wear herself out. Sometime later she found herself in the wing where the mysterious ex pope and his friends were staying. As she approached the biggest room in the wing she heard moans of pleasure. Instantly she was disgusted, how could he do something like that in the face of a tragedy like they were facing now. Then she remembered that no one had told them yet. Well at least she new why he was an ex pope. She was still disgusted though, and she was going to fling open the door to tell him just that. But before she could an arm snaked around her waist pinning her to someone's chest and a hand was pressed hard over her mouth as her captor pulled her away from the door and into the deep black of an alcove. As she was pulled back she had seen a flash of a white glove on her captor's hand. She thrashed but he wouldn't let go. He then wrapped his legs around hers to stop her kicking. She felt a cold breath on her neck and then she herd her captor's voice in her ear harshly whispering in her ear "it's in your best interest not bother him when he's in the middle of something, especially considering your young age." As he spoke she reached for her dagger. After he finished she felt the jeweled handle hit her palm and she curled her fingers around it. She could tell her captor was a boy but that didn't matter, she'd still kill him if she must. Because she was the type of person that acted first and asked questions later she slashed at the hand on her waist with her dagger, “let go of me,” she commanded in a harsh whisper. The boy released her. Elizabeth whirled around, pressing the dagger against his throat, the rubies and the blood trickling from the wound to the front of the boy’s held up hands the only color that shone in the moonlight. Elizabeth look at the boy, surprised to see that his face was painted to look like a skull, but just barely, because it was done with a light hand so it was more like a shadow of a skull overlapping his already ivory face. Perfectly styled ebony hair framed his face. Elizabeth stared threateningly into his all black eyes. “I don't know or care who you are just keep to your own business because let's just say I know more ways to defend myself than there are rooms in the castle,” said Elizabeth coldly. She pulled the dagger away from his throat, wiped it on the white dress shirt that was under his black suit, and turned to go the direction she had came. As she left the boy said in a kind voice, “sorry miss, just trying to help.” Elizabeth said nothing in response, nor did she turn around. The boy took off his gloves revealing just as white hands as he pressed them against his wound. He was about to turn and go back to his room when he sensed “his brother”, another one of the popes in training, further down the hall in the direction Elizabeth had gone. “Shit,” he mumbled to himself as he turned and went in that direction. He knew that he would do unspeakable things to her, things not fit for a girl that looked to be no older than 14. As Elizabeth walked past the space where the other boy was hidden she was grabbed and pushed against the wall, her feet suspended above the ground. She again struggled to get away from him, to no avail. She noticed that he to had his face painted to look like a skull, however it was more prominent and included the use of white paint over a face that had some color. He had a devilish grin on his face and a giddy air about him as he said, “hello little girly, you’re a little young and a little ugly for my taste, but I guess you'll have to do.” He caressed her cheek and leaned in to kiss her as she brought up her dagger and made a slice on the inside off his arm from his elbow to his wrist. Elizabeth pushed him away as he let out a cry of pain and surprise and she ran away, her dagger falling from her grasp. The first boy caught up to her just in time to see her hair ribbon disappear around the corner like he had earlier. He grabbed her dagger from the ground as the other boy shouted, “bitch!” as he clutched his arm to his chest. Dagger in his hand the first boy ran after Elizabeth. When he caught up to her he at her bedroom door he said, “miss, you seem to have dropped your dagger.” She turned and snatched it from his bloody hands, mumbled “thanks,” and slipped inside her room, locking the door, and flopped on her bed, wiping the dagger on the sheets. The boy went back to his room thinking about her menacing silver eyes, his blood slipping down his hands and onto the stone floor.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to my friend pengwyn_princess for editing this chapter.

Elizabeth was woken up by a guard in the morning. It was way too early for her taste, but she had no choice. They said the pope guy would see the king before breakfast, so the pope guy would indeed see the king before breakfast. She wanted to look as menacing and powerful as she could, so she put on one of her blood red dresses that had big belling sleeves, points on the shoulder instead of big ridiculous puffs, and a black leather belt. On her head she placed her crown which was carved out of a single piece of obsidian, studded with rubies and wicked sharp points at the top. She knew obsidian wasn't worth anything, but it made for a menacing dangerous crown, and that's all she needed. Once dressed, she told the guard at the door to bring Papa to the throne room and set off towards it herself. When she reached the throne room, Elizabeth had one of the guards move her throne to the front of the platform on which the thrones sat. She couldn't bear the thought of sitting in her father’s throne; besides it was not menacing at all being a hulking mass of gold, cream fabric, and ivory. Hers, however, was ebony with dark crimson velvet that was topped with spirals and points. A few moments after she was settled on her throne Papa entered with five ghouls and the older and younger popes in training that had stopped her the night before.  
“I thought I was meeting the king,” said Papa, displeased.  
“You are,” replied Elizabeth.  
“Then where is he?!?!”  
“If you are looking for my father I am sorry to say he is at the bottom of the ocean with mother and my elder sister, Anna. If you are looking for the current king, then here I am.”  
“He's dead?” asked Papa in disbelief, “and you, a 14 year old girl, are the new king? Who are you?”  
Elizabeth sighed and replied with, “I am Elizabeth Redthorn, daughter of King Nathaniel Redthorn, twin sister of Eli Redthorn. Am I really that much of a disgrace that an old friend of my father's doesn't even know I exist?”  
“Yes I was indeed a friend of your father's, and how I didn't remember you existed is beyond me. But why would you say you are a disgrace?”  
“Because they say I am a monster, a witch, because of my silver eyes and dark nature. And-“  
Elizabeth didn't get to finish because she was interrupted by the older boy who shouted, “-and the fact you walk around in the middle of the night cutting people who just want to show you a good time.”  
“What?” Papa turned to the boy.  
“That's the bitch who fucking sliced my arm open!” he pointed an accusatory finger in Elizabeth’s direction.  
“Aww, is little skeleton boy pouty because he was stupid enough to believe I couldn't hurt you because I'm just a little girl,” Elizabeth said in a singsong voice.  
“You fucking stabbed me you royal bitch,” he spat in reply.  
“Oh, what, little pope boy can't handle getting cut,” Elizabeth taunted.  
He tried to charge her but was held back by two of the nameless ghouls. Elizabeth barked out a sharp laugh which caused him to struggle harder against the ghouls who began to drag him away.  
“You bitch!” he screamed as he disappeared out the doors.  
Elizabeth just smiled. Papa just stared in disbelief. He had not expected such a young girl to be so vicious. He now knew one thing for certain; he liked her, and thought she would make a marvelous king.  
“Your majesty,” the younger boy bowed in apology, “I'm sorry for my brother's behavior. He can be a little….aggressive at times.”  
At this she laughed again, “Now unless you have anything more to say we're off to breakfast.”  
“Yes, your majesty,” Papa nodded his head once in submission.  
On the way to breakfast, the younger boy caught up to Elizabeth and whispered, “Your majesty, I hope you would please forgive me for my behavior last night. I didn't know...”  
Elizabeth turned to him and smiled, amused. “l cut your hand, yet you come up to me and apologize for trying to help me. Don't you think that is at least a little bit amusing?”  
She paused for a moment with a smile and then continued, “You know, I wouldn't have cut you if I knew you actually decent, unlike some people.”  
Having nothing to say in response, the boy fell back in his place behind her and Papa. Once they reached the dining room Elizabeth took her seat at the head of the table. Papa took the seat to her left while the seat to her right for her brother was noticeably empty. After Papa, the older boy, the younger boy, and then the ghouls followed suit and took chairs of their own. Great mounds off eggs, ham, and loaves of bread were brought out by the staff. Elizabeth took little and pushed most of it around on her plate, not hungry like she had been ever since that fateful night. The others sat in silence, the masks of the ghouls pushed back so they could eat. A few minutes after the food was brought in Eli burst into the room with a crying Lilith in his arms.  
“Liz-bet,” wailed Lilith, “where's Liz-bet? I want Liz-bet!”  
Elizabeth jumped out of her chair, practically knocking it over in the process, and ran to her little sister, taking her in her arms.  
“Want to go on a walk in the garden Lily?” Elizabeth asked, bouncing her sister up in down to soothe her.  
Lilith nodded her head with a sniffle. Elizabeth turned to go, and a guard came up beside them.  
“You will not be needed,” barked Elizabeth.  
“But Elizabeth it might not be safe,” Eli said, making Elizabeth sigh.  
“Ugh, fine.” Elizabeth turned to the youngest pope and pointed at him, “You; how good are you at wielding a sword?”  
“Adequate enough,” he replied.  
“Stand up,” Elizabeth ordered.  
He stood and backed away from the table.  
“Here,” Elizabeth took her sword, sheath and all, off of her belt and threw it to him.  
“There, now I have a guard,” said Elizabeth sweetly at her brother as she headed towards door, the boy with her sword following.  
As she left, Lilith buried her face in Elizabeth's hair. One they reached the garden Elizabeth removed her spiky black crown and set it atop Lilith’s golden curls. It hung off of Lilith’s head and made her little purple gown look garish, but Lilith loved wearing it. She loved her sister’s crown so much that she reached up and curled a hand around one of the points.  
“I want mom. Where is mom?” Lilith asked eyes bright with tears.  
“She isn't here Lilith,” Elizabeth replied, not looking at her sister for fear it would bring her to tears herself.  
“Where is she?”  
“The ocean.”  
“Will she come home soon?”  
Tears began to streak down Elizabeth’s cheeks as she whispered, “No.”  
“But why?”  
“Because she isn't,” Elizabeth ended the conversation and diverted to a new topic to distract not only herself but her sister, “Now come on silly what do you want to do? Thanks for saving me from breakfast by the way.”  
This made Lilith smile.  
“Dance and walk while you sing, like mom does,” Lilith responded to her big sister’s question.  
“You want me to sing?” Elizabeth said incredulously. “But you know I can't sing silly.”  
“Sing!” Lilith demanded.  
“Fine, here I go,” she sighed as she set Lilith down.  
“And you,” she glared at her companion, finally acknowledging the boy’s presence; “you did not see or hear any of this; especially when it comes to my brother, Eli. He freaks out every time Lilith has my crown because he thinks she will cut herself. She's six, not stupid.”  
The boy just stood there unsure of how to react. This wasn't what he was expecting from the girl that slashed him in the hallway and smiled at his brother's insults. She seemed ruthless and benevolent to the core, but here she was asking him not to tell, not ordering.  
“Of course, your majesty,” he bowed his head in understanding.  
“Oh, for heaven’s sake call me Elizabeth or just about anything besides ‘your majesty’ because I'm already tired of it.”  
“Of course, sir.”  
Elizabeth smiled at that. “I guess that will have to do.”  
She turned back to her sister, “now do you really want me to sing?”  
“Yes!” Lilith clapped excitedly.  
“Wait…I can't remember all of the song.”  
“Then sing another one!”  
“But I don't remember any others.”  
“Then do the thing you do.”  
“What thing?”  
“The things you say in the library when you think it's empty.”  
“You want me to recite poems?”  
“It doesn't matter what they are, say them.”  
“But they aren't happy.”  
“Say them!” Lilith shouted, stomping her foot down on the cobbled path.  
“Okay, fine,” Elizabeth took a deep breath before she began to recite, with feeling, the only poem that came to mind, which was one she herself had written in the last week.  
“Longing  
It is my heart  
It is my soul  
It is my head  
It is my every waking moment  
It consumes me  
It binds me  
It frees me  
It is me  
And  
I am longing.”  
The boy stared at Elizabeth in her spiky crimson gown, enthralled by her voice. It was as if she had cast a spell over him, all he could hear were her words echoing in his head. All he could think about was her steely silver gaze.  
“Pretty,” Lilith clapped approvingly, breaking him out of his daze.  
“Now we better get you back inside before Eli gets too worried,” Elizabeth scooped her sister up into her arms.  
“Awww, but he worries all the time for no good reason,” Lilith pouted.  
“Yes, but still,” Elizabeth said in a soft voice obviously affected by the poem she recited. She gently plucked the crown from Lilith’s head, returning it to her own, and began to walk back in the direction they had come from.  
Upon reaching the entrance back into the castle, Elizabeth handed Lilith over to one of the waiting guards.  
“Take her back to my brother,” she ordered the guard, who nodded and mumbled a response.  
Elizabeth then turned and faced the small papal figure.  
“Now if you would be so kind as to return my sword to me,” she held out her hand.  
The boy placed the weapon into Elizabeth’s waiting hand without hesitation.  
“Thank you,” she coldly snatched it back, buckling it around her waist, “Now you may follow the guard. I have no need for you anymore. He will show you the way back to the banquet hall. I have some business to attend to. I shall return to breakfast afterwards.”  
The young pope went into a sweeping bow in front of her.  
“Yes your maj – I mean, sir,” Elizabeth could see his ears tinge pink in slight embarrassment as he stood back up, turned around, and followed the guard back into the castle.  
After their figures faded from sight, Elizabeth headed to her room as tears began to spill from her eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again I thank pengwyn_princess for editing this chapter.

Elizabeth  
Chapter 4  
Once Elizabeth had reached her room, she sank into the fluffy mass that was her bed, put on her dad's old black and red jacket, and pulled one of her mother’s white gowns and one of Ann’s pink ones on top of her. She hid her face in her pillow so that no one would hear her broken animalistic screams.  
After a while she had fallen asleep, the intent to return to breakfast completely forgotten. She slept until Eli knocked on the door and hollered.  
“Sister, come out! It’s time for dinner!”  
Elizabeth didn't make a move to get up or even acknowledge her brother's shout. Instead, she just stared at her gray stone ceiling cast in shadow by the fading orange light streaming through her window. She stayed like that, not doing anything but staring blankly as the ceiling turned dark.  
Some time later, there was another knock at her door.  
“Your brother was worried about you actually eating dinner, so would you please open the door?” yelled a voice.  
“Go away!” Elizabeth whined.  
Elizabeth heard a sigh and a few seconds later the door swung open, the lock having been picked by the younger pope boy.  
“You didn't seriously think someone couldn't get through your door, did you?” he asked as he walked in and kicked the door shut, a plate of food in one hand and a mug of mead in the other.   
“I said go away,” Elizabeth glared at her intruder, “And why are you even here?”  
“Because you can't starve yourself.”  
“Even if I’m not intentionally trying to starve myself, I can do what I want; I’m the king. Why do you even care? You don't even know me.”  
“Well you are my king so it is my job to serve and protect you, even from yourself or imagined threats.”  
“While that may be the case, it doesn't mean I expect you to actually follow through with that. Besides, your people don't seem to care about rules or duty except those amongst yourselves. Hell, you all seem to be seriously lacking in respect for women,” Elizabeth spat with distain.  
“It feels like it's the right decision to serve you, Your Majesty. And not all of us are blind, disrespectful, pigheaded idiots like my brother.”  
“Just go away damn it!”  
“Not until you eat.”  
“GO THE FUCK AWAY!”  
“Eat.”  
“J-just go,” she whispered as tears began to trickle down her face, “Go away right now, that’s an order.”  
He just stood there, holding the food and making it very clear he wasn’t going anywhere.  
“Go,” she whimpered. “Please, please go, you can't…..you mustn't....no one can…..see me like this.”  
Elizabeth let out a loud wail as her body began to shake from harsh sobs. The boy walked up to the massive dark wood frame, set the food and drink on the bedside table, and perched on the edge of the bed on rich black blankets, as far from Elizabeth as he could.  
“Please,” she begged as she turned to him with pleading eyes.  
“No,” he said softly, “you know you don't have to be strong in front of everyone.”  
“Yes, I must.”  
“Even your brother?”  
“Especially for my brother!”  
“Listen to me,” he said in a soft tone, “you are broken. You might try to claim otherwise, but you are. And when you are broken you retract into yourself, which can get to the point of constant solitude, and that will drive you into insanity. You need to find one, just one person to rely on; one person who you can show your broken self to. Yet you aren't fully broken, are you? You’ve been forced to change. You obviously aren't the person you were before, but it isn't bad, it just is. You must accept that, and you must know that others don't care that you changed, that they still love who you are. You should speak with your brother. It'll make you feel better, I promise.”  
“N-no n-n-not now,” Elizabeth choked through ragged breaths.  
“Of course not; it is just a suggestion, my King. What you do is ultimately up to you. I'll just be going now, but I still suggest you should eat when you can,” he stood up to leave the room.  
Before Elizabeth knew what she was doing her hand shot out and grabbed onto his wrist.  
“Please don't go, I just…..I just can't be alone, I just…” she trailed off.  
“As you wish,” he smiled as he sat back on the bed, his back against the headboard.  
Elizabeth felt like an idiot for asking a stranger to stay with her, but she felt so alone she didn't care. She was glad he stayed and was comforted by his presence regardless of the fact. The boy just sat as Elizabeth wept, unsure if he should be making more of an attempt to comfort her or if that would be crossing the line of social status.  
After a while Elizabeth stopped and said softly, “give me the mead.”  
The pope in training reached over to the bedside table and handed her the mead. Elizabeth took it and quickly chugged most of it, and then finished the rest in a large gulp. She set the cup on the table beside her, rolled on her side facing away from the boy, and curled into herself, clutching her mother’s and sister’s gowns to her chest. The boy stayed by her side until she drifted asleep. He knew he should have made her eat something before she fell asleep, but he didn't dare wake her now. Instead, he pulled her blankets on top of her, picked up the plate of untouched food and tiptoed out of the room, making sure the door closed silently behind him.  
“Good night, Elizabeth” he whispered to the closed door as he turned to take the plate to the kitchens.


End file.
